


Envy Eats Nothing But Its Own Heart

by MarvelsMenace



Series: The Seven Sins of Matthew Murdock [4]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 20:44:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16456904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelsMenace/pseuds/MarvelsMenace
Summary: Envy is one thing that Matt battles with more than he would like to.  It eats at him daily, only more when Foggy is involved.





	Envy Eats Nothing But Its Own Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Just 3 more left guys!

Matt envies the people around him somedays, walking in their little bubbles of presumed safety, ignorance really, while they talk on phones, or text the ones they care about.  While they look at that _one_ person and their heart rate spikes just by seeing a face, looking at photos they take, see things in their favorite color.  What was his favorite color?  Did he ever have one, does he have one now?

Sometimes rage accompanies his envy of those around him.  Listening as they lose focus on the here and now for those superficial or future things, when the gardens of central park are blooming but all he can hear is a focus on superficial gossip or petty revenge in relationships.    

Matt envies the video chats Foggy has with his parents sometimes, the family that had welcomed him in so easily was not his family, but the one he wanted so badly sometimes he wanted to scream.  He wants to hug his father when Foggy hugs his.  When Mrs. Nelson tells Foggy how happy he looks, Matt wants nothing more than to _see_ what happiness looks like beyond the tightness in his words that tell him Foggy is grinning. 

Envy for one entity doesn’t take him hold of him often, but when it does, it’s an angry thing in his gut, churning and tearing at him until he feels sick.  His jealousy isn’t fair, it is present because he is scared, weak, not willing to risk the one true and solid friendship he’s coveted for so many years.  Foggy dates on occasion, when between the arrangement with Marci that leaves him satisfied but always perfumed, but they rarely stick in anything more than a hookup arrangement.  Matt tries not to judge, his one nightstands don’t happen as often as they had in school, but some nights he just wants to get away from the feeling of _everything_ , away from the flirting Foggy is enjoying at the bar.  If he forgets the name of his partner for the night, he keeps his mouth busy in other ways. 

 

OoOoO

 

Something changes in Foggy on a non-specific day, so much so that Matt finds himself counting days back on a calendar to find a standard Tuesday half way into the month as a starting point.  He doesn’t notice it at first, too caught up in the day to day of work, of finding his way through the city, of his after dark dealings.  It seeps in slowly, new soap one day, the scent of it filling the office for two weeks before it touches all the corners in the place of his old scent, warm and natural over the smell of his own skin in place of the layer of artificial cotton that had been present on himself and his belongings. 

Some mornings Foggy comes in freshly showered, odd since he has been the type for evening showers since Matt knew him in school.  Matt trying to tell himself that its weird to notice that.  The smell of shampoo and his soap doing nothing to hide warm muscle and a strong heart, all stemming below airing pores and a natural sort of sweat that comes with hard work.  It make’s Matt’s mouth water, and he wants to taste the skin at the point of his pulse, high on his throat with a monotonous beat that thunders for him. 

The little dots of interest pop up on his radar over time. 

This time when he moves to take his usual spot at Foggy’s arm, only for his hand to close on warm, firm muscle that certainly hadn’t been present the last time he had guided Matt through the city.  He stops dead, one foot poised in dead air as the other remains in its place on the curb.  He shifts his grip higher, squeezing once more in his way of investigation.

“This is new.”

He can feel Foggy’s blush rise, sense the heat rolling off of him as he takes the initiative to lead the not blind man through the streets to their destination.  In all honesty, Matt’s forgotten where they’re going with this new information under his hand.  He shifts his hand, half a ruse of adjusting his grip, but the strength under it is too much to resist. 

“Keep fondling my arm like that and you’re going to buy me dinner Murdock.”

Matt sputters, and Foggy has no problem laughing in his expense.

“Sorry, it’s just-  I noticed a difference.  Thought you weren’t capable of making good life choices?”

He snorts with a noise like buzzing bees, knocking his shoulder into Matt’s.

“I started going to a gym that opened on my block.  They had a free membership for a month thing, I wanted to see if I could commit.  I’m not cutting out my morning pastry, but I think it’s making a difference.”

Matt tries not to sound too strangled when he speaks.

“I would say so.  Soon you’ll be helping Jess with the heavy lifting.”

Foggy laughs, turning them down another block, and they trade light hearted barbs until breaking apart for the night. 

 

OoOoO

 

Foggy can’t make it to their usual Saturday plans, and Matt grits his teeth, shaking himself as he wants and wants for the position the current paramour holds for him.  Matt replies with well wishes for the weekend, and a reminder for the appointment they have Monday morning with the client they took on last week.  His phone is quiet the rest of the weekend sparing a few tip offs from Jessica and the late night/early morning check ins that usually await him after Daredeviling is over.

 

OoOoO

 

The notch is ticked up again when Foggy enters the office on his heels smelling of warm sun and satisfaction.  There’s a floral note around him and Matt lifts his nose to take another whiff.  It’s light on the air, nothing thick like the florist shops present on every couple blocks.  There’s a muffled _thunk_ of glass meeting the surface of his desk.  Water sloshes, and he figures it’s a vessel of sorts for the plants.

“Are those flowers?”

He can hear Foggy’s hair move as he nods. 

“Yeah, Dahlias.  Most guys don’t have a favorite flower, but this one does, and these are it damn it.  They aren’t too strong, are they?”

Matt feels a small spot of warmth at the concern, and he shakes his head.

“Uh no, they’re fine.  I think most people wouldn’t be able to smell anything.  It’s just different.”

“Cool.  Let me know if they bother you, I’ll put them outside until I head home.”

Matt nods before he heads into his office, wracking his brain to remember if he ever knew that Foggy had a favorite flower. 

Xxxxx

Foggy has always gotten his ties from two places.  His family, or thrift shops.  The thing doesn’t actually touch him, and their business is barely blooming.  He’s fairly happy with his finds, usually solid colored things with an assortment of stitched print that always brings a bit of joy to him.  Ducks, candy canes, dogs, bottle caps, flips flops, top hats.  All just a small selection of the snake like coil of ties he has hanging in his closet. 

These things have always interested Matt.  When Foggy straightens his almost always crooked one, he started palming the other’s as a joke, trying to find out what shape was on it for the day.  Matt has only been right a hand full of times, the designs too small and without detail to pinpoint most of the things.  He can usually pick up the holiday ones, but that was about it.

So, it startles him when Matt tries for their usual game, only to miss the design entirely in the shadow of real and _expensive_ silk.  It slides under the press of his hand like water, and he fumbles for another pass before bowing out with an _‘I give up’_ that Foggy tells him isn’t even trying. 

He’s running a tally in his head of all the new things while he waits for Foggy and Karen to join him in the conference area for their usual meeting to touch base.  Matt’s so lost in his thoughts he misses Foggy’s foot steps behind him until he’s leaning over him to put a cup of coffee at his left.

“On your left buddy, still hot though.”

“Thanks, I’ve been working out more.”

Foggy shakes his head from his place at his shoulder and the motion sends his unclipped tie swaying, the long slide of it decadent as it moves across the skin of his neck.  He has to bite his cheek to keep the noise that nearly rises within him, mind wanting to know immediately what it would feel like Foggy to bind him with the thing and nothing else. 

After going over the main points for the meeting, he’s quiet for the rest of the day, all but running out the door with a cheap excuse to get away from everything that his Partner has stirred up within the office.

 

OoOoO

 

Matts been in a mood for days, and no hours at the gym or wrangling of criminals has helped to aleviate it.  He’s been stewing in his office with a silent disdain so strong that Foggy can’t help but needle him, to dig and dig until he finds the answers.  He rolls up his sleeves as he sends Karen home for the day, shuts his laptop, moves breakable objects away from surface edges.  Sure enough, as soon as she shuts the office door he can hear Matt’s chair slide back, the squeak of wood underfoot as he paces, most likely waiting until she’s fully out of the building.

Foggy can see the agitation in his shoulders when Matt comes out of his office, holding his glasses in one of his hands as he rubs at his face with the other.  He tosses the things onto Karens’s desk, two bright spots of red blooming on the floor from were the sun streams through the lenses.

“Why did you send her home?  We need more information on the Robertson case.” 

He’s got the tone that he’s talking to an idiot, not his business partner, and Foggy feels his own anger simmer.  He crosses his arms, knowing damn well it won’t hide the beat of his heart, but feeling oddly better with the gesture.

“Because she’s walking on eggshells around here with your mood, and I’m tired of tiptoeing, so you and I are going to figure this out, and then we’ll see what happens.”

“There’s nothing to figure out Foggy.”

“Bullshit.”

Foggy nearly spits the word and Matt steps into his office grab his jacket, shrugging into it with jerky movements.  He doesn’t have the patience for this, the ability to keep a hold on his emotions right now. 

“It’s nothing Foggy.”

Foggy beats him to the door, placing his bulk in front of it so Matt would have to bodily move him just to get the chance of slipping out.  It’s still daylight, otherwise he would already be on the fire escape and on his way down to the alley below.

“So, nothing is why you can’t stand being near me without getting pissed off, _nothing_ is why whenever I-I get an actual answer from you for something not work related you’re practically hissing the words?  Even if it is work related, you’ve been talking to me like I’m _Geoff_ from city hall!”

His teeth squeak as he clenches his jaw, fists curling into fists at his side.  He’s trapped here, feels a caged sort of anxiety creep up his spine.

“Foggy please-“

“No Matt!  There’s something going on and you won’t tell me, and I don’t know why.  We were past this.”

Foggy’s heart is a quick staccato in his chest, and Matt can imagine it all too clearly thrumming just under the surface of the pale skin of his throat.   He’s losing his grip on the situation, grasping at any handhold as the damn begins to fail. 

 “Because-“

There’s a warring within him.  A losing one if he was honest with himself.  Something in him breaks among the wreckage of the battle, and for a moment he thinks it may be his mind under the pressure of their booming load of cases.  Sudden as a bolt of lightning in a storm he finds his hands on Foggy’s soft cheeks, directing the other closer and into a hard kiss, soft lips yielding under his own chapped set.  He aches for the mask of his glasses for the aftermath of this.  His hands keep their hold as he pulls back, thumbs stroking day old stubble, the coarse hairs scraping against the sensitive pad of the digits.  He’s only dug himself deeper into this hole with this, and he wouldn’t be able to see the sun from the bottom if he still had working eyesight. 

“ _Because._ ” 

A breath to steady himself.

“Because you deserve better, someone who doesn’t care about the soap you like, or whether you go to the gym.  I can’t take not know who’s changing you, who’s taking my Foggy from Franklin Nelson and changing him.  And at the end of the day, I’ll always be the opposite of a better choice for you.  I want to be that better person for you, who buys you flowers, and makes you want to buy new ties even though your ridiculous thrift shop ties are perfect.  But I’m not, and I don’t know if I’m ready to accept that or not.”

Foggy’s heart pounds before him, a hard beat despite the fact that it had sped up almost as soon as they started arguing.

“Oh Matthew.”

His tone is so sincere, it distracts him from the use of his full name for a minute, and Matt finds himself wanting to wilt against Foggy’s body with the sound of it.  So unlike the voices of pity he had practically grown up responding to after the accident.  But he’s already fucked this up past salvaging.  Hell, he doesn’t even know why he’s still standing there.  He moves to relinquish his hold on Foggy’s face, but he only makes it as far as his shoulders, calloused hands catching on the wool of the other man’s sweater.

“I’m sorr-

“Matty-“

Their words stumble over each other, and Matt lets himself step back, grip dropping until Foggy makes a wild grab and manages to catch his elbow, the grip oddly opposite from when they normally walk the city.  He can’t retreat any further, so he settles for looking put out, despite the fact he can feel the warmth of Foggy’s hand through the sleeve of his jacket.

“Matt, I need some honesty here.  Are you telling me all your brooding and stewing lately is because you, Matthew Murdock, were, and or are, jealous?”

He makes a point of looking anywhere that isn’t at Foggy, knowing damn well that he can’t lie to him, hell he can’t lie to anyone, cut certainly not Foggy.  Though this behavior pretty much sells him on the silent confirmation.  Foggy thanks his new strength as he tugs Matt towards him, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him close despite his halfhearted struggles.

“Want to know who’s been treating me so well?  I can give you a name if you want to go shake them down.”

Matt’s brow furrows, and Foggy has a very strong urge to kiss the wrinkle between his brows.  He nods though, and Foggy takes it as a good enough yes from his internal turmoil.  He can have Jess track them down, see what they are like, if they’re really good for Foggy. 

“It’s me.”

The running tally of things in Matt’s mind unravels, and he blinks up at Foggy, tilting his head in disbelief.  Foggy speaks as he takes a step, and another as Matt steps back until his back is against old drywall and his front is just shy of touching the other man. 

“I’ve got too much stress in my life, so I’ve been trying to ease that back, bring more happy in.”

“You bought yourself flowers?”

“Not all of us have the privilege of being blind.  The office is fucking sad and those flowers bring cheer damn it.”

Matt allows himself to lean a bit closer until the wool of Foggy’s sweater is rasping against the buttons of his suit coat, snickering with shaking shoulders.

“Well I mean the ties are nice but, the soap?”

“The ties were actually a whim, I found a shop turning over their stuff for the season and I’m not picky about my fashion and the time of year.  As for the soap I felt spoiled when I crashed at your place and showered after our all nighter.  I didn’t want to take your smell though, so I tried some of the other stuff from the company.”

Foggy can feel Matt’s breath on the edge of his jaw, can tell he’s probably listening to his heart by the small tilt of his head.  He wants to kiss him, and he releases his grip on Matt’s elbow so both hands are resting at the narrow dip of his waist, feeling the muscles bunch as he finds a ticklish spot with his thumbs.  Matt squirms against him, a breathless sort of noise leaving him.

“And these?”

Matt’s hands are on his biceps, squeezing with obvious interest that Foggy certainly would like to explore later.

“Like that do you?  I wasn’t lying about the gym and at least _trying_ to make better choices.  But, I always worry that I won’t be able to move your dead weight if your dumbass got beat to hell again.  Daredevil scares everyone into getting into shape apparently  So, I figured it was a bonus.”

“ _I’m an idiot_ ”

The other’s forehead falls against his shoulder and Foggy laughs, releasing his grip with one hand to ruffle the brunet locks currently tickling him. 

“We all have our moments.  But I mean if you weren’t jealous, I don’t think we would be doing this?”

“Wha-“

He’s cut off as he raises his head, lips pressing enthusiastically against his own with a real kiss, different from the clumsy press of lips he had all but fallen into earlier.  Matt opens beneath him, nipping at Foggy’s lower lip with blunt teeth before he can cause a distraction by licking into his mouth.  Their noses bump and when Foggy pulls away to breathe, he has to fight a laugh at the sight of Matt looking fairly ruffled and blinking in the sunlight. 

“How about we pack up the things for the case and go to yours, call in Pizza?  We can talk?”

This is new territory, but it stirs something in him. 

“Fine, but no flirting with the delivery person this time.”

“Hmmm I don’t know, I might like Jealous Murdock.”

With the strong grip on his ass, Foggy thinks that he might finally have to tell Josie that he’s off the market.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [ Tumblr](http://a-marvel-fueled-dumpster-fire.tumblr.com)


End file.
